


One Year

by bisexualreina



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Adoption, Angst and Feels, Dana Scully Angst, F/M, Fox Mulder Angst, Post-Season/Series Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexualreina/pseuds/bisexualreina
Summary: It is William's first birthday, and Scully has to figure out how to "celebrate" without him
Relationships: Dana Scully & William | Jackson Van De Kamp, Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder & William | Jackson Van De Kamp
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	One Year

**Author's Note:**

  * For [msgilliana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/msgilliana/gifts).



Mulder had worried as this day grew closer and closer on the calendar. Once it had become safe for both him and Scully to return from their time away in hiding, he knew that resuming their lives in the way that they had once lived in harmony wasn’t possible.

Scully was clear that she needed her space, and given what she had endured in the past year, he was smart to give it, not pushing it whenever she retreated to bed after dinner without a word. He would catch her on her sofa with a program humming in the background, but her eyes were glassed over as she stared off into space, and it frightened him.

Dana Katherine Scully was always a woman with a lit fire in her belly, one that fueled their work, her quippy sass, and at one point, their undeniable love for one another. But in the past year there had been another inhabitant of that very spot, and he was unfortunately gone for a majority of that growing inhabitant that had taken up space not only in her body, but in her heart.

He had returned upon an extinguished fire, she was tired, and upset, and he could always feel a lingering of disappointment as she looked at the man who she was eager to build a life with. Every time her eyes landed on Fox _William_ Mulder, she felt as if an ache was spreading like a disease, metastasizing into her blood, and bones and muscles, finally aching deep into her soul. 

This was the one thing that she assumed they’d do together, that she’d finally get that was her own. She had followed him to the ends of the earth to find a truth that had gotten warped and battered through the years, dragging her into it without any say whatsoever, and at the end of the day she knew she wanted this.

She wanted to come home to a life with the man she once desperately loved, but this past year had her questioning if she could look past what felt like the deepest betrayal of them all.

He left her.

Their son hadn’t even been acclimated to the world beyond her womb, and he was gone, explaining that whatever truth was indeed out there, he would find it, all while her biggest truth, her biggest miracle, was wrapped tenderly in her arms.

The fear, the anguish, the _decision_ that she lived with every day made it impossible for her to try and reconcile any kind of previous life they once had as this important date drew near. 

She wanted to be left alone for it, explaining to Mulder that everything she carried, she had done on her own, and that is how she intended to celebrate the first birthday of their son, without him there to be celebrated.

When she sat in his nursery after John and Skinner painted and furnished the walls, loading the heavy furniture where she had eagerly instructed, she pictured this day clearly. One hand rubbing and prodding at the spots where she felt palpable movement against her insides. She pictured a big cake, with her baby’s hands and face covered in yellow icing, their name drawn out in her fancy cursive writing atop of it while her mother snapped photos for her. John and Skinner would show up, both feigning excitement until they saw whatever niece or nephew they claimed. Mulder would be trying to win the crowd with forced jokes, only getting laughter out of the three morons that he had spent his free time with. Even Bill would come to town, Tara finally getting her chance to spoil whatever niece or nephew she had desperately wanted. 

It would be a cheerful affair as both Mulder and Scully took a side of the high chair as everyone sang. They would blow the candle out for their little one who, if Scully recalled her fetal anatomy correctly, would not be able to, barely learning to stand with assistance.

Singing. How she longed to sing to her baby.

***

_The agony had been so intense, the feeling of stretching, tearing, burning. She could feel the baby moving through and out with each petrified pant she would hiss through her teeth whenever Monica wasn’t shouting a command at her. The shoulders frightened a shout out of her lungs, shocking the audience that she had._

_“Please don’t let them take it!” She sobbed, convinced that these things were here to take the most precious thing from her, praying that she could just keep him in a little longer where he was safe._

_Monica just kept shouting at her, and she didn’t know what else she could do, what that soldier had told Monica was true._

_This baby will be born._

_A strangled moan slipped from her lips as she felt him release from her body. She could barely catch her breath out of the fear that she had. Those things seemed almost uninterested upon the birth of her child, filtering out of the small barn lodging that they had found._

_She didn’t focus on them, her eyes glued on the wet baby that Monica was trying to juggle and dry off, his cries like music to her ears, and she needed him close. Monica gave up trying to multitask and set him onto her chest, taking the button down shirt that Dana had discarded over him to carefully dry him off._

_She could hear a commotion but she didn’t care, somehow with the little boy settled in her arms she felt complete. The tears flooded her eyes as she tucked him inside of her blouse, softly running a finger up his tender cheek that was wailing for some sort of comfort._

_She didn’t know what he needed, but felt an obligation to soothe him at least until Monica returned with some supplies._

_“Happy birthday to you.”_

_He mewled at the sound of her voice, the same voice that had carried him through his first stage of life._

_“Happy birthday to you.”_

_“Happy birthday, my sweet baby.” She cried, her voice unable to come out steady enough to hold a tune, but somehow he enjoyed it, knowingly gripping the finger that she offered._

_“Happy birthday to you.”_

_***_

Dana sat numbly in the once nursery, now turned guest room, the door closed enough to give her the privacy she needed, but not completely to draw any attention. 

She held the same white button down shirt in her lap, watching the clock as it ticked towards midnight, the time of his birth being only two minutes after, making her wait for a beat until a familiar tightening in her chest graced her.

_Her little boy was one._

Mulder had been fast asleep, and she was able to sneak out a cupcake that she had made, hidden inside a mixing bowl in the back of her refrigerator to prevent any questions or acts of pity, this was her time.

She choked back a tear and glanced down at the star candle that she had placed on top, the ones she found at a drug store that she was so elated about due to his love for his star mobile.

She lit it with her lighter and watched the flames flicker before taking a deep breath, managing to whisper out the next part.

“Happy birthday to you.”

“Happy birthday to you.”

“Happy birthday…my, _sweet_ baby.”

“Happy birthday to you.”  
It felt like someone had taken that pain, that horrendous agony that she had felt one year ago and doubled it, washing it all up and down her body, tearing her to pieces.

She pinched the flame and ignored the slight sting of the fire, cupping her mouth to try and muffle the tears, but a hearty, anguished sob released from her lips as tears fell unchecked down her cheeks.

The creaking of the door caused her to look up at Mulder who had tried not to pry on this moment, but from the sounds of her cries, he knew he could be of some help, only if she wanted it.

He crept inside and carefully wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in to his chest before pressing a kiss onto her head. She clung to him and cried, cried for the son that had already forgotten about their life shared together, a new person in his mind whenever someone exclaimed “mother” to him.

She had lost so much, so many milestones she had given up along with that precious boy that she loved so much that it physically pained her. But she always had this, she held it close to her heart, even if it wasn’t at him while he was strapped into a high chair, or at a table with his friends and family taking photos. She at least got to sing to him once, happy birthday.


End file.
